cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
In honor of the tenth anniversary of Red Tent Living, we are featuring a monthly legacy post written by one of our regular contributors from the past decade. Kelsi Folsom joined the Red Tent writing community as she and her family were living on a small Caribbean Island. Her perspective as a young wife and…
Read More
In honor of the tenth anniversary of Red Tent Living, we are featuring a monthly legacy post written by one of our regular contributors from the past decade. Anna Williams is one of our original writers. Her voice helped shape Red Tent Living as she brought the perspective of a single young woman. This post…
Read More
Mom leaned her head out from the balcony of the InterContinental Paris Le Grand. “You can practically hear the joy out in the streets!” she exclaimed. She was right, of course. Paris is always bright, but at Christmas time, it twinkles, and all of the cars, pedestrians, and little shops seem to twinkle with it.…
Read More
Am I where I’m supposed to be? Do I have the inner strength, gentleness, and wisdom to venture out once again into the unknown?
Read More
We come—our lives brim-full with laughter and longing, delight and dread, fear and fury. Whether effervescent, elated, exuberant, exultant, or hunger-haunted, hurt-hollowed, we are expectant with a question: “Will I be met with wrath, or wrapped in warmest welcome?”
Read More
I am sitting in Kerry Park looking at the Seattle skyline when a woman with a canvas bag reading “Atlanta is for Dreamers” passes by me. I turn my gaze from the skyline I have called home for 15 years and stare. Really? Atlanta, for dreamers? Since our recent move to the East Coast, I…
Read More
I sit on the airplane, wedged between Tim, my husband, and Reed, my younger son. Seth, my older son, sits just across the narrow aisle. The flight attendant moves down the aisle closing the overhead baggage compartments, signaling that boarding is over and our departure is at hand. I pull my AirPods out of my…
Read More
My tears remained hidden behind a set of cheap sunglasses as I strolled through Target, passing newborn moms relieved to be out of the house. Equipped with Ergos, bottles, and pacifiers, they strolled precious, wide-eyed babies in bright red grocery carts secured with cushioned cart covers. Several of my friends had recently announced they were…
Read More
I am from a country of more than a billion people From Indian and Pakistani roots I am from a place of many hands and caregivers but no one to call Mom and Dad I am from spices, colorful saris, traditions focused on light From zesty smells of turmeric, ginger, and cardamom I am from…
Read More
I have a memory of belonging, of feeling at home.
Read More